Birth of the Broodmother - book two of The King Under the Mountain
by Fireskin
Summary: Memories of Emily's last day in Lothering comforted her in the dark until she eventually forgot the light. This is a work of HORROR fiction, be aware. It concerns the creation of a Broodmother. It's based on codex, developer interviews and my own thoughts on how the process would work. THIS IS HORRIFYING FICTION WITH INAPPROPRIATE SEXUAL CONTENT IN THE LATER CHAPTERS. BE WARNED
1. First day they come and catch everyone

_This is a work of HORROR! Not kidding. This chapter isn't so bad but all the subsequent ones get steadily worse! YOU ARE WARNED!_

 _That said, the creation of the broodmothers I'm presenting in this is taken from Dragon Age codex, interviews with developers and then a healthy dash of my own imagination to fill in the bits they don't make clear._

 **Chapter 1: First day, they come and catch everyone.**

 _Memories of Emily's last day in Lothering comforted her in the dark until she eventually forgot the light._

The blight was coming, they all knew it. But father said they would be safe. He said his traps would stop the darkness from overwhelming their tiny farm. He said they would hide in the cellar if needed until the evil of the darkspawn had passed them by.

She spent the morning humming over her chores and daydreaming about Darren the blacksmith's apprentice. The blond haired boy had slipped a slightly crushed daisy into her hair when she'd passed him on the way to the Chantry for prayers yesterday. She'd thought she would die of blushing when he'd used the move to then lean in and peck her on the cheek. He'd bid a jaunty "Good day," and turned back into the warmth of the smithy. What was even more significant was that he hadn't done any such thing to her older sister Sarah.

Sarah the know it all. Sarah of the haughty look. Sarah who constantly took it upon herself to remind her younger sister that she was the one who had blossomed first. Sarah who flaunted her more significant bosoms rebelliously before the boys.

The afternoon had been spent helping father lug more bushels of potatoes into the cellar. She hadn't dared think of Darren then. Father had much too discerning an eye and she much too telltale an expression when she went all doe eyed thinking of the strapping young man. She was fifteen and nearly of age to marry. Really father should want her to catch the eye of someone as important as the blacksmiths apprentice (and wouldn't that just put miss "I'm a year older and so much better" in her place).

"Why do we need so many potatoes anyway? Won't the darkspawn just move on past when they can't find anyone?" She muttered to herself tossing the bag petulantly onto the growing pile of musty smelling vegetables. "Isn't that what you said was the whole point of this?"

"What was that, Emily? Need to speak up, girl." Father grunted as he hefted his own bag onto the pile. Her eye roll was truly worthy of every fifteen year old girl from the dawn of time when confronted with authority. "Why do we need so much food down here? Aren't the darkspawn going to go past when they can't get to us?"

Father's reply was only slightly impatient. "Darkspawn are tricky. I hear tell they all think with one mind so if one knows something, they all do. May have to stay here a while to avoid any stragglers who could go letting 'em know we're here."

"I heard they're like beasts. They don't think, they just attack. So the traps should work like they do with the wolves, right?"

"That's what I expect. But it's better to be safe. Two more bags, Em. Then we can finish up tomorrow."

As she stumped back up the ladder she cursed under her breath (making sure Father couldn't hear her). "Maker take the stupid potatoes. I'm not afraid of any stupid darkspawn."

Xxxx

The first thing she knew of the attack was her sisters screams waking her from smiling dreams of a blond boy.

The second thing was a clawed hand grabbing at her foot through the blanket. A hand that accompanied the shadow of a twisted form silhouetted in the dying embers of the fire downstairs.

Her own scream joined those of her sister as she scrambled hard away from the clawed hand trying to grab her over the edge of the shallow sleeping loft. Thank the Maker the quilt was thick and it's claws hadn't yet found purchase in her leg.

The hand that clutched at her blanket released it, moving instead to aid it's owner in climbing the ladder. Next to her, her sister Sarah struggled, kicking and screaming, clinging hard to the wooden bed frame as whatever it was that had her foot struggled to pull her down to the floor below.

As her mind began to truly awaken to what was happening, Emily realized that it sounded like her father was fighting down below while Mother shouted instructions (and wasn't that just like mother, to be ordering father around during the end of the world). Whatever they were fighting was oddly, eerily silent but for the stomp of armored feet on the wooden floor.

Almost in slow motion Sarah went over the edge and out of sight. And then it's face reached the top of the ladder and peered over the edge at _her_.

Emily shrank against the back wall of the loft in abject terror at the horror revealed. Lipless it's armored face leered at her, flesh mottled and striped with blackened veins that pulsed with a terrifying life. The worst was the eyes, milky and dead but somehow filled with a fierce hunger. The red blood that smeared it's armor (why had no one told her that darkspawn wore armor) testament to it's grisly intent.

She wasn't sure what granted her courage in that moment, but almost without thinking she rushed forward and kicked the top of the ladder away from it's purchase on the wall, sending the beast careening back down to the floor below.

A great thud and then Mother wailed as if her entire heart were coming out with her scream, and Emily knew somehow. That amount of pain from Mother meant that Father was dead. Somehow even with his traps and his plans and his certainty he had been _wrong_.

And then she knew something else. No one was coming to save her.

"Think, THINK." She sobbed in terror as she cast about for an escape. She had only moments before the ladder was righted and the monster returned. Barefoot and weaponless, what could she, just a girl, do to save herself?

The bed, the loft, the too distant chimney… there were no windows on this level. But there was the thatch of the roof…

Could she?

With the strength of true fear she clambered onto the bed and began tearing at the dense packed straw. It was tightly bound, but her smaller fingers managed to pull one straw out of it's place, and then another. A tiny hole began to appear as she heard the scrape of wood on the floor below and Mother's wails were cut short.

She realized Sarah had stopped screaming even before that and redoubled her efforts, bloodying her fingers as she tore at the straw.

The hole was growing, she could fit her arms through but not her torso. The thump of the ladder against the edge of the loft nearly made her faint.

As the wood creaked under the weight of the creature she pulled one last handful away and leapt. Scrabbling and kicking she managed to squeeze her through to her waist, then her thighs…

It grabbed her foot, nearly yanking her back and with a scream she couldn't not utter, she kicked and flailed and managed to pull it free, although the creature's claws left bloodied tears down her shin.

But she was out.

Sobbing with pain she scrambled across the roof to where it attached to the chicken coop at the back. If she was fast enough she would leap to the ground and run for the well across the back field before they could see where she had gone.

In her mind the leap had been a graceful thing that ended with her running. The reality was much more painful as her torn leg gave out and she fell, rolling into a pile of stones left for shoring up the walls. Still, she was nearer the field than she had been and she manged to regain her feet and stumble in a limping run towards safety.

When she reached the edge of the field she realized her mistake.

Traps.

Father had filled the field with traps that he set every night. The fool had not understood how easily they could be taken by surprise and had paid the price with the lives of he and his family.

Something silent struck her in the back and she fell.

The last thing she saw as the twisted faces loomed over her was the blaze of the stars in the night sky above her.

And then nothing.


	2. Not really a chapter

8/9/2016 Not really a chapter. This is heavy movie filming time as an actor and I have a troublesome film project in post production. Nothing is abandoned. Just a heads up that I likely won't be posting for a couple more weeks until after we make our Sundance film festival submission.


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